The Seasons of Friendships

How do you know when to let go & how to nurture a keeper?

I can remember a time when I’d have said I had heaps of friends. Being a chatty child, I would make friends at the drop of a hat. I’d have 20–30–40 friends at each of the various things I was part of — school, choir, church, netball, drama. Hundreds of friends.

And we’ve all experienced those that have come and gone fleetingly in the form of work colleagues, the broad circle of school/work/social ‘friends’. But as we get older, friendships get harder to navigate for a host of reasons.

Someone exceptionally wise once said:

“Friendships are for a reason, season or a lifetime.”

Reason friends

You might have been tempted, in light of the quote above, to think ‘lifetime’ friendships outrank the others. I know I used to. Right up until my friendship soulmate upped and died on me, only a handful of years after we met. Needless to say, I was devastated. Despite her having passed away nearly four years ago. I still miss her terribly.

She was my ride-or-die and we fought together for her survival until the very end. Although granted, she had a much harder (and shorter) road to endure. Mine was less arduous but is now so much longer to traverse without her beside me.

Even though she still feels, to my soul, like a ‘forever’ friend, she was also a ‘reason’ friend. Whilst she fought for her own life, she also fought for mine. It was her very wise counsel that got me the surgical help I needed to recover from a life-altering accident.

And for that, I will be forever in her debt. She saved me. Sadly, I couldn’t do the same for her. My ‘reason’ to her was to help her die well. I’d like to think I achieved that — as hard as it was.

The hardest thing about being a woman of a certain age now (i.e., I can say I’ve very likely lived more than half my life), is that death is likely to occur with increasing frequency amongst the people we care about most. It sucks, but it’s more a fact of life.

D’oh, just when I’d finally figured out who my go-to’s were.

Season Friends

But then there are also those once delightful friendships that pass because time passes. We grow up, leave school or our towns. We change and so do the friends we shared so much with. We have less in common.

And then we find new friends through work. Those, too, change over time. We move on from our jobs, careers, and companies. And all of sudden the folks we once had so much in common with griping over Monday mornings, just don’t quite resonate as much as they once did.

Or our children no longer go to the local schools and/or their friends’ families that we befriended move away. Or, because our kids can now drive themselves all over the place, we’re no longer needed for social activities, such as learning to swim and other sporting things where other parents hung out. It was those routine, yet incidental meetings where new friends were to be found.

There’s something almost magical about hanging out on the sidelines (or pool deck) on a cold winter’s weekend morning, huddling together, hugging a coffee, discussing the latest politics of the local sports club or the hopes/dreams/goings on of each of the various children.

We all had the shared camaraderie of supporting our kids. But those kids grow up.

And despite those relationships sometimes enduring for many years, now that we have no serious shared time or continuing interests, they’re harder to maintain. We might still catch up for a BBQ once or twice a year and fondly look back on fun times or chat on Facebook every now and again — but we no longer share any unifying factors between us, except past history.

No new history is being made. Hence, I suspect, that most, if not all, of those relationships will pass quietly like water under a bridge.

Turns out that finding friends as we age is likely to be a bit harder than it used to be. Keeping them for the longer term, still harder again.

What about long-term friendships?

But what about the friendships we’ve had forever. Surely, they’re the keepers, yes? The real deals? The lifers?

Maybe. Or rather, it depends.

Just like the other examples of friendships that pass quietly in the night, sometimes long-term friendships just don’t make it.

The thing about the friendships that have survived changes in life stages such as leaving school, relationships (marriages, kids, etc.), or geographic displacements, is we tend to hang onto them maybe longer than we should.

We’re so united by our shared experiences and those stories form the basis of our lives. So much so that we can almost overlook our current lack of shared experiences. Until we can’t.

I recently had the ‘and we’re done’ moment with what is probably my oldest friend. We met when we were seven and we were instant besties. We were both only children and the only two children of divorcees in our school year (what can I say, it was the 70's). We had a shared love of Little House on the Prairie. We both sang in the church choir. We were two peas in a pod.

We survived me moving to another school, sort of — more effort had to be made, but it was doable. We put our friendship on hold when she got married to someone unsuitable.

But I was the first person she called when they separated. Our friendship survived her moving to another state. And I was there for her during her divorce. We were great friends when we were both single and in the same state.

Then I got married. She was my bridesmaid. My career took off. Hers didn’t. I had kids. She didn’t. She moved back in with her aged parents. We saw each other less and less. I kept inviting her to things, but she kept declining. Still, we saw each other maybe 1–2 times a year. As her oldest friend, she asked for my help with her father’s funeral planning. I was her shoulder to cry on.

But in truth, we had less and less in common to talk about. Our shared experience was almost 20 years in the past. I thought our friendship was largely done. It wasn’t sad, it was more a fact of life. It was time.

Until my accident. She turned up the day I got home from the hospital, armed with enough food for a small army. She checked in once a week. For a couple of months. To be honest, I was shocked. Where had all this effort been to be part of my life, my children’s lives (she was their godmother after all), in previous years?

Her mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. And despite fighting for my own life at the time and that of my other dying soul-friend, I was there for her once again. I made sure her mother’s will would protect my friend’s inherited home. I sat with her as she received the grim news about her mother from the oncologist. I helped shop for hospice attire. I was again the shoulder to cry on during hospice and after her mother’s passing.

Until it was my time to really need her. I had major surgery scheduled. She needed to grieve. And left me to it. My other friend died. She left me to it. I needed more surgery. She left me to it. I nearly died on the operating table. She left me to it. All we seemed to talk about was her fight to retain her home from her half-siblings and how unfair their legal challenge was.

Although, when she needed friends to help her clean out her mother’s belongings, I was the first person she called. I was suddenly ‘busy’, not to mention, not actually recovered from my own surgery — but she’d forgotten about that. I finally left her to it.

Recently she got extremely angry with me for ‘ghosting’ her and for only focusing on the friend who passed away. I tried to explain how that friend had helped me, but I kept being met with vitriol. I reminded her I had been the one that kept her home safe despite my own struggles. Still not enough. Finally, I gave up and left her to it. Life is too short for that stuff.

We are done.

Except what should have passed with a bit of longing, a wistful smile, and an occasional hello on Facebook, didn’t. It was unpleasant. It’s left me feeling that I should have walked away 15–20 years ago when I realised the relationship was very one-sided.

That’s on me. I know better now.

Do lifetime friendships really exist?

Yes. I think so. I have one — just one. And yes, I know I am exceptionally lucky. It’s my husband of nearly 24 years. He’s my real bestie. He’s my real ride-or-die.

But…we work at it. We never take it for granted. That’s a fool’s quest.

We’re both very aware it can never be just one person doing all the heavy relationship lifting and looking after the other. Sure, we have 24+ years of shared history. But we know, it might not be enough — it certainly hasn’t been for others.

Hence, we’re very cognisant that we have to create new shared history even the majority of it is around the ‘boring’ stuff of running households and families whilst our children need us.

Even so, we’re making plans for when it’s our turn to return to ‘just us’ once again. That time will come — sooner rather than later.

The takeaway

If you’ve got a friendship that you’re hoping is a life-long one or you want to nurture, it’s up to both of you to put in the time to maintain and grow it.

After all, shared time = shared history.

Friendships of all types require and thrive on time as a currency; time is a relationship’s oxygen. And they can’t thrive when either side is deprived of that oxygen.

Not all of that time has to be high-powered ‘fun’ times. Simply hanging out often does the trick. But every now and again, plan something a little more exciting. Plan into the future together. It will give you both the delights of a shared anticipation of a future shared history.

That’s how great relationships continue to grow.

But likewise, don’t be afraid to walk away from a friendship that’s outlived its season. By all means, try to revive it if you don’t want to give up on it yet. Once it becomes one-sided though, and you find that you’re doing all the heavy lifting, it’s time to let it go, gently into the night.

I wish you well.

Kristin Austin — Lover of good food, friends & cocktails. Recovering from a life-changing injury. Still learning. Have me speak at your next event.